Being Hungry

Listen. I’m all about fasting and being disciplined before our Father. Get it, friends. But I’ll be the first to admit that I hate being hungry. When I’m hungry I get moody, start throwing fits, pick on strangers and small children, and say things I really don’t mean. My friends are right when they offer me food during these times. I’m like a two-year old. I can’t take care of myself. Within two bites of nearly anything, I start changing back from my werewolf status into the human that I’m supposed to be. [Did that reference hit home with any of my States audience? I hear these things are a big deal these days…] And so, as you can imagine, if I’m just one cranky girl when I’m hungry, can you see entire NATIONS being hungry, all together, in intense heat all day long? For a WHOLE MONTH!??!?

[If you just said, “But it’s dry heat…” we’re not friends anymore. It’s not dry. It’s miserable. If I had air conditioning or any kind of air circulation in my HEATBOX, I mean, apartment, maybe I’d consider that comment. Or if I wasn’t wearing long sleeves and pants and SWEATING. In the SHOWER. Do you know what I do at night? I take a water bottle, spray down my sheets to a gross level of dampness, turn the fan directly on me, and jump under the sheets in a tank top and shorts. I soon freeze out and sleep for about…. an hour. Repeat again. All. Night. Long. While my neighbors are up partying and talking in loud voices and watching Rama TV. Did I mention it was loud? Anyways, I digress….]

Oh yes, everyone’s SUPER hungry, but not only that, there’s no consumption of beverages, not even water, [the ultra-religious claim that they don’t even swallow their own saliva, but rather spit it out all day] and, my personal favorite: no smoking. [Cue Hallelujah Chorus here.] Only this sing-songy attitude of mine only lasts a few seconds as I realize that if my taxi drivers were somewhat creepy and jerky before, when they had their coffee and cigs and shawarma… and they’re now without… all day… it’s not a pleasant experience for any of us. Tempers flare and, in a place where every mole hill is already made into being a mountain, the drama is actually disturbing. Even I get a little nervous sometimes.

The world is swirling around me. Everyone is grumpy, upset, aggressive, mean, growing weak, and so I turn to my friends to clue me in. Rama is a much anticipated month. It’s the month where God’s revelations to humankind are supposed to be increased exponentially. It’s a month where they all up their prayers and closeness to God. It’s a month where they strive and hope for… security. But they’ll find none. Because Is. doesn’t technically offer any. I get different stories and opinions on everything from different friends. Some say that this is the month where, if they try their hardest, pray the most fervently, follow the Fast, observe the proper breaking of the Fast, give alms [charity/donations] and are just the overall best Mus. they can be, that God will have favor on them. Maybe.

My heart breaks. But the ache and sadness I experience with their determination and desperation is also one of the strongest reminders I have of why I’m here. Some of my American friends here choose to observe the Fast with their Mus. friends for a variety of different reasons—to be in prayer for them, to be alongside them and know what it’s like to fast from sunrise to sunset every day for a month in the desert heat, or to show compassion for their friends with their desire and openness about Is. For me, I’ve decided not to observe. I take the opportunity to talk about why I fast and when—how I don’t follow a prescribed formula or requirements, but do it on a personal level, sometimes with a small community of friends, because of my relationship with my Father. They’re fascinated. Or disappointed. Again, it depends on the friend. Ha.

Sometimes they think it’s so amazing that a J-follower actually fasts and wants to hear God. Other times they think I’m being rude or just “so American” by not participating, and therefore, not respecting the country’s and culture’s guidelines. You never can win. Ha. So I hide my lunch and glass of water behind a picture of my family should anyone come into my office and be offended or turn me into the authorities.

As my sweet friends claim that their hunger, weakness and intense thirst brings them closer to God, I’m hoping that it’s true. That they’re seeking Him with their whole hearts, and that He will be faithful to meet them. To be the only One Who can satisfy. Maybe in a dream? No one can take that personal encounter away from them.

Where to Start?!

**Please take care to be sensitive to my online status and that of many of my friends in the region. Note the special words and abbreviations I use and please follow suit. This helps my friends in the region and I participate in projects like this blog, giving us the security, confidence and comfort to read and comment. Thank you!

I’ve spent a majority of my college years studying and learning about the majority religion, Is. as I’ll call it, and one of the most interesting things I’ve learned while being here is that many people don’t know what they believe or why they believe it. And to take it even a step further and get all academic on you, it’s amazing to consider that the choice of beliefs and lifestyles is not actually a choice for my friends. The idea of a choice is not really thought of, and if it is, it is usually not acceptably attained. And so, when a religion and belief system is strictly adhered to and straying or even asking questions holds severe consequences, I turn out to be a curious friend to have around.

Ya see, the thing about me is that I love asking questions—especially of women who have much to say, but no audience. Rama, as I’ll call this ninth month of the Is. lunar calendar, is an excellent time to be a foreigner in my city. I love playing dumb so that’s exactly what I do, but let’s be honest: all my questions are leading the witness. I go to my friends and say, “So, what’s Rama? Can you tell me about it? What do you do? Why? Am I supposed to, too?” And so begin hour-long conversations where these beautiful, intelligent women get to be the expert. It makes my heart sing to just give them attention and respect, to challenge them to know what they believe and be able to articulate it in English [God bless them] to a foreigner who believes differently.

Truth be told, only a small number of my friends are actually sure of their religion and traditions. They will quietly admit to me that they don’t know what things mean or represent or why they do them, they just do because that’s what their families do and everyone else in the neighborhood, and it’s what their religious leaders expect, as well as their Holy Book. So I often back down and turn it personal.

I’m so glad you asked how I do this.

Well, the first time I meet a new friend, I’m sure to ask her about dreams. Nothing in particular, just dreams that she has. Dreams are intensely vibrant in this culture as they are respected as a way that God communicates and shows Himself. I love this. And what I love even more is that they don’t think I’m weird. No. They gladly welcome this question and tell me about the dreams that they have. And there you have it. Now every time after that, I throw it in there. “Hi! How are you? How’s your health? How’s your family? You mom? Your dad? Your siblings? Your kids? Have any dreams lately? How’s school? Work? Your favorite soccer team?” See? You didn’t even catch it.

In my first weeks here, I was sharing with a veteran worker how I loved hearing about how Mus. have been changed because the Son approaches them in a dream. And she shared this with me:

“Sarah, always ask them, very casually, about the dreams they have. Sooner than you think, they will have a dream about you. You’ll be standing in a green field, wearing white, glowing. They’ll come and talk to you about it. In fact, every time they have a substantial dream, they’ll think to come talk to you since you’ve expressed an interest.” I was like—Pssshh!!!!! No way, lady. Ok, yeah, in like 5 years. Cool.

But no. Just three weeks later, I was with a family, and the daughters, all in their teens and early twenties, were with Roommate [see previous post] and me, dancing in their living room, and one of the girls turned to me and gasped, “Oh! Ya Sarah!! I almost forgot! I had a dream about you!!!”

“Whhhhaaaa?! Really?” I replied all stunned. “Well… did I look pretty?” I joked with her.

She rushed to me, very excitedly, and explained, “You weren’t smiling. Your face was calm, but you weren’t mad. But you were walking, in a green field, all by yourself toward something. The sun must have been very bright because you were really shiny and you were wearing a white dress, like a wedding dress. And you just kept walking.”

I think at this point I peed my pants. We kept talking, me asking questions, her having short responses while continuing to dance and laugh and smile. She asks me what I think it means. Well, green is a holy color of Is. So I was in a place of holiness, and wearing a wedding gown, Roommate and I took the opportunity to talk about how the Son has come to take all our shame from us, allowing us to be washed white… you get the idea.

Dreams are significant. They’re paid attention to. And they’re personal. No one can tell you that your dream is wrong, in my opinion and practice. Why do I share this to introduce you to Rama? Well, here’s the basics you should know:

Rama: A month where Mus. draw closer to God through fasting, prayer, giving to the poor, reading their Holy Book a lot and just being overall more religious. They don’t eat, drink or smoke from sunrise to sunset. At the Call to Prayer at sunset, they break their fast with a few dates and a lentil soup. And a huge meal. They continue to eat all night with their friends and family, watch a lot of TV, pray and read their Book. Again they wake early, before sunrise and eat more before that Call, before they can’t consume anything for the rest of the day. It’s a brutal change of schedule on the body, mind and soul. In general, everyone sleeps more, especially during the day, gains weight and is cranky. Shops keep different hours and the whole country is pretty quiet during the day. Only children, the elderly, pregnant women and menstruating women are exempt from the Fast. The women have to make up the days of menstruation or pregnancy. As a foreigner, I have to publicly fast. It is completely unacceptable and perhaps illegal for me to eat or drink in public. [There are rumors among the foreigners that say it’s illegal for us to, but out of respect and maybe fear that some grumpy locals would jump me, I refrain.]

Please be thinking of our region for the next month. It’s an incredibly important and hot month, one that I approach with caution and hope. God is strong. And He wants to be known. I’m praying for lots and lots of dreams for my friends, and my friends’ friends. Won’t you join me?

My favorite little “mini-market” that I go to almost everyday.
CLOSED. You can’t eat or drink, so you might as well not even be able to buy.
They’re makin' me be a good neighbor.
[Uggggh.]